“I don’t know,” Jenna said. “I honestly thought there was something between us, but now I’m not so sure. The way he was pushing me away, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something from me.”
“Like what? Are you worried that he’s injured worse than he was letting on, or is it something else completely?”
While Jenna had been thinking about that sameissue nonstop since leaving Skid Row, she hadn’t been able to come up with an answer. Part of that was probably because she was hurting so much. It was ridiculous, but there was almost this sense of betrayal when she thought about Trevor keeping something important from her. The pain was making it hard to look at the situation objectively.
“I wish I knew,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t think this is about him getting hurt, though. Somehow, it feels bigger than that. Don’t ask me how I know, but I can feel that there’s something going on that he’s keeping to himself.”
She didn’t add her next thought. That it was something Connor and the other members of the SWAT team were almost assuredly aware of.
“You’re going to talk to him about all this when he finally gets back, right?” Madeleine asked. “I really think you should.”
“And what am I supposed to say to him?” Jenna let out a snort. “Oh, hey, Trevor, I want to let you know that you really hurt my feelings when you wouldn’t let me come to the hospital with you earlier. And while we’re on the topic offeelings, why do Ifeellike you’re keeping something from me?”
Jenna could practically hear Madeleine wince over the phone. “You’re right. That might be a bit awkward. I guess you could always wait until you have sex, then hit him up with your questions while he’s in a postorgasmic haze.”
“Postorgasmic haze?” Jenna almost laughed. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Girl, after a good romp, men’s brains turn to mush and they’ll tell you pretty much anything you want to know. Well, at least until they fall asleep.”
Jenna did laugh at that. Then spent the next few minutes talking about Madeleine’s pop-up dining event. Setting up a high-class restaurant in the middle of a park, complete with linen napkins, china plates, and fancy silverware sounded like an enormous amount of work to Jenna, but from the sounds of it, Madeleine was having a wonderful time.
“I have to run. They’re almost ready for dessert,” her friend said. “Talk to Trevor, huh? If you want this thing between you and him to have any chance, you need to know where you stand.”
Jenna murmured something she expected sounded somewhat conciliatory before hanging up. She checked her messages, trying not to be disappointed when she saw that Trevor still hadn’t texted her.
Sighing, she picked up the pizza box the delivery person had brought a few minutes earlier and put it in the fridge. It was almost five o’clock, nearly three hours since she’d seen Trevor. If he hadn’t made it back to the apartment by now, it was probably because he was doing something more than going to the hospital to get somescratchescleaned up.
Something he hadn’t felt Jenna needed to know about.
A horrible thought popped into her head of Trevor and Connor finding a way to go back down into those tunnels, along with Hale and Mike. Jenna tried to tell herself that he wouldn’t do something like that, not after everything that had happened earlier today. But then again, she’d told Madeleine that Trevor was keeping something from her. If she was being honest with herself, she supposed she needed to accept that she had no idea what he was doing at the moment.
Not in the mood for TV—and refusing to be the one who texted first—Jenna headed for the guest bedroom, stopping in front of one of the worktables. A few minutes later, she had a wire armature set up, bending and twisting the metal into the basic shape she was envisioning in her head. Then she pulled out a huge block of plastic-covered clay, cutting off big chunks and slapping them onto the armature.
Her hands worked without conscious thought, pushing and shaping the dense clay into one of the horrifying images seared forever in her head. It was the moment she’d found Trevor down in those tunnels, all those ghouls coming at him with their fang-filled mouths spread wide, claw-tipped fingers reaching. It was this most violent memory that her fingers teased out of the clay.
Jenna lost herself in the flow of her favorite medium, letting the work drain the stress from her mind. It was probably strange, but it was when she was sculpting the most hideous creatures from her nightmares that she felt the most at peace.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but one moment, she was using the tip of her pinkie finger to shape a ghoul fang, and the next, Trevor was standing beside her, watching her work. Jenna jumped a little, a myriad of confusing and nearly overwhelming emotions washing through her at the sight of him. She was concerned, for sure, but she was also more than a little angry, too. Hadn’t he known she’d be worried about him, dammit?
Jenna couldn’t miss the gauze wrapped around both of Trevor’s forearms, spiraling up from his wrists all the way to his elbows. She glanced up at his shoulder, where blood had soaked through his shirt earlier. But there was nothing to see because he was wearing a new shirt now. There wasn’t even an outline to make her think he was wearing a bandage under it. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but the words simply wouldn’t come.
“You’re back,” she finally said, turning to focus on the sculpture again. It hurt not to look at him, but if she didn’t do something to occupy herself, she was going to start crying.
“Yeah,” he said.
Trevor stood there, like he was waiting for her to say something else, but she couldn’t.
“Jenna, is something wrong?” he asked softly, his voice so filled with confusion that she wanted to scream.
Of course, he didn’t realize anything was wrong. In fact, he probably hadn’t given her a second thought after leaving that alley hours ago.
“Wrong?” she murmured, refusing to look at anything but the sculpture of the ghoul, its maw spread so wide open, it could have easily swallowed her entire hand. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
Trevor would be the first to admit he didn’t really understand women. But as uninformed on the subject as he was, he still recognized that Jenna was upset. And okay, maybe even a little mad. Considering the fact that she refused to look his way, he could only guess she was mad at him. Though for the life of him, he wasn’t sure why.
Passive-aggressive was definitely not Jenna’s style. At least it hadn’t been until now.
He replayed the earlier part of the day through his mind, searching for anything that might explain the anger he was picking up on. Since he hadn’t wanted Jenna to see how fast their wounds healed, Trevor had asked her to make sure Owen and theother members of the HOPD got home okay and to remind them not to talk about anything they’d seen. He couldn’t see how any of that would have upset her.
